Sasori's Bringing Sexy Back But He Needs Help
by A Clockwork Pumelo
Summary: Title is self explanatory. Everyone seems to be trippin' over the redhead, now that he's gone. But Deidara is trippin' even more, because he just might get his best frienemy back, and get rid of Tobi. Major Tobi-Bashing and some Konan/Pein if you squint.
1. Chapter 1

Sasori's Bringing Sexy Back (But He Needs Some Help)

By A Clockwork Pumelo

**I do not own any of the characters contained herein. They Belong to Massahi Kishimoto. ** **This is also my first attempt at multiple chapters, so tell me if I screw up really horribly...**

"Why can't Tobi go in Deidara's room? Is Sempai crying over Sasori again?"

There was another loud sniffle from behind the door, and it opened a bit to reveal a single, puffy blue eye that glared at the orange mask on the other side of the door with immeasurable hatred. Taking this as a sign that his Sempai needed a hug (hugs could fix anything), Tobi decided to give him one. The orange mask hurtled towards Deidara through the door as Tobi tackled his partner, bowling him over and onto a pile of Sasori's old puppets.

"Get off me, un!" Deidara tried to push Tobi off him, feeling the wooden puppet pieces he had been crying over splinter on impact. He'd never realized just how heavy Tobi was, but seeing as the guy was at least a dozen years older than him and at least thirty pounds heavier, Deidara wasn't that surprised when his ribs groaned under the weight of the other. A wooden arm was digging painfully into his ribs, and a wooden foot jutted out beside his head. "Tobi, you have three seconds to get out of the room, or I'm blowing up the television!" he wheezed against the weight on his chest. That got Tobi to rise hurriedly and scramble out of the room, a wooden arm clattering in his wake. Deidara dragged himself to the bed, clutching his ribs, and flopped down on the coverlet to stare at the ceiling. Glancing over at the floor, he saw the mess of puppet parts, strewn and splintered on the floor. Deidara rolled over and cried again. After all, Sasori _had _taken his authentic, limited-edition Gameboy Color with the shiny golden Pikachu decal with Swovarski crystal eyes on the back and gotten it blown up along with him. Wooden limbs could be replaced, but that thing had been _priceless_! And besides, Sasori had been the closest thing to a friend he'd ever had, and having a friend, even if he had completely absurd notions of what art should be, was something. Deidara punched the pillow and buried his face in it to stifle his sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I don't own any characters. Massahi Kishimoto does.

Meanwhile, Itachi and Kisame had decided, with Konan's help (which consisted of her stomping into their room, unplugging the NES and shoving a calendar in their rightfully shocked and appalled faces) to begin the annual Spring Cleaning of the Akatsuki Hideout. They might as well... besides, Itachi had stepped on one of the many dango skewers littered about their room last week, and Kisame had had to spend half an hour removing the splinters from his partner's foot. Needless to say, he never wanted to do _that_ again, for as long as he lived. (Itachi did not respond favorably to any kind of pain, especially when there was somebody on the other end of that pain who could conceivably be killed. Kisame was glad that he was himself, otherwise he would probably be in Zetsu's stomach right now...) That was the reason that both of them were in the basement, feeding the incinerator on the many bulging bags of trash they'd collected from various rooms this morning. Also, the reason why Kisame was trying to get a sticky wrapper of some sort off his foot without actually touching it. He didn't want to know what it was but, hazarding a look down at his foot, saw half of what was unmistakably a melted gummy shark, squished into the treads of his sandals.

"Quit flailing around, oaf." Itachi said, continuing to toss handfuls of his candy wrappers, Hidan's hamburger boxes, and Tobi's popsicle sticks into the incinerator maw. Kisame didn't listen, too horrified at the thought of a shark, even a gummy one, on the bottom of his shoe. Trying to kick off the offending sandal and attached shark, he ended up flinging it off his foot. "I said, stop freaking out Kisa- oh kuso!" The sandal sailed in smooth slo-mo across the room before making a heavy (for a shoe) impact on the tallest, most unstable tower of boxes in the whole basement. The stack teetered for about half a second before descending in an avalanche of cardboard, wooden limbs, and a cloud of dust that reeked of mothballs, sawdust, and Pledge. A strangled noise from his left alerted Kisame to the fact that his partner had just been bowled over by a massive box full of wooden feet and the remains of what appeared to be Hiruko's tail segments. Turning to heave the box off his partner, Kisame never got the chance to help him, as a heavy, cylindrical object hit him square on the head and felled him like a large, blue tree. The incinerator was inordinately happy, with all this new food, and proceed to eagerly spread its devouring flames out and through the highly flammable debris of the basement...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Again, I don't own any of the characters herein; Massahi Kishimoto does.

It was Zetsu who first noticed the smell of cooking things, and went to investigate.** "Hmm, we should just eat them and tell Leader that they died in the fire.** _Nah, they look like they might still be alive, and besides, this canister looks like something Sasori might have left behind._ _Perhaps we might be able to cut a deal with ole' Kakuzu about letting us go out and get the mail... _**Yeah, I love mailman... nice and chewy. **" Zetsu picked up the metal cylinder, rubbing a slight coating of ash from the surface and melting into the basement ceiling to put it on the couch for later investigation. "**Hey, don't you think we ought to go back and pick up the food? **_You mean our teammates?_** They might get overcooked... **_You mean they might die._" Zetsu argued a bit more, before deciding to rescue Itachi and Kisame. He couldn't resist taking a little nibble off of Kisame's foot, but the rather singed blue shark-person woke up and washed Zetsu away with a gigantic wave of water drawn from a nearby lake, also inadvertently saving the Akatsuki base from burning to the ground.

"Zetsu, go outside. Now. Or I'll kill you." Those were the last words Kisame spoke that day, before hoisting a badly burned and squished Itachi up the stairs to their shared room, slathering both of them indiscriminately with burn ointment, and tossing Itachi in his bunk bed. He then bandaged his foot before flopping into bed and passing out. He never did find out exactly what happened to his sandal, or the gummy shark.

Konan, exiting Pein's room with another huge bag of miscellaneous papers and food wrappers, noticed the trail of wet ashes up to Kisame/Itachi's room and sweatdropped. The faint burnt scent in the air, as well as the various puddles of water around the living room foreshadowed that this was going to be a _very _bad year for spring cleaning. Her fears were confirmed when she tripped over a heavy, cookie tin shaped object and went sprawling face first into a puddle of dirty water, scattering torn up crisp packets like paper-plastic snowflakes around the room.

"I... hate... this... **CENSORED FOR VOCABULARY PICKED UP FROM HIDAN **... place..."

Getting up, soggy ash flakes dripping off her face, she stomped up the stairs, intent on first a shower, and second, to go give Pein a back rub and talk about the redistribution of chores. This Spring cleanup thing was too much...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I don't own them. Blah.

Deidara woke to the smell of charred wood and Pledge, savoring the illusion of days past when Sasori would spend the entire night polishing and fussing over his puppets. He remembered fondly the gentle hiss and scent of the wood burning tools making the kanji and the trademark scorpion symbol on the polished surfaces. The way that the redheaded puppet would hum annoying little tunes (mostly from the many anime shows he was fond of watching), keeping a steady, rhythmic pace to his work. Only Sasori could have enough patience to craft his everlasting puppets- the guy was one himself! Deidara kept his eyes closed, trying to pretend that his late partner was still there, still waiting for him to wake up, only to start yet another debate on the essential qualities of true art. These debates were always the thing that got him awake and functioning in the morning. It wasn't the coffee. It was the fact that he would always lose in his pursuit to prove Sasori wrong, to convince him of the truth about art. Art was a fragile, transient thing, no matter how long it was built to last. Sasori's own death had proved that. A solitary tear made its way down the artist's cheek, sliding into his long blond hair like a tiny diamond. If only he had stayed with Sasori for his last fight, he might have been able to at least blow up the pink haired brat...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Once Again, I don't own these fictitious people. Massahi Kishimoto does.

Pein was in heaven. Or at least his Deva path was. The others were mentally griping at him about not being able to get any exercise, and by exercise they meant being free to kill everything in sight. That would have to wait for a later date. Meanwhile, he, God, was getting the best shoulder massage ever form his Angel. As her fingers worked gently into the knots at the back of his neck, he closed his eyes and slumped slowly to rest his forehead on a pile of paperwork that sat on his desk. He'd always liked Konan, especially her back rubs. When her fingers scooted lower to work on his shoulders, he sighed in relaxation and drooled a bit on the papers. She was the only one who could _ever _get him to relax, even a smidgen. When her fingers rubbed slowly down to the middle of his back, he thought in a state of very relaxed and dreamy alarm, _oh, kuso, she must really want something huge to happen if she's putting this much effort in... I wonder what Deidara blew up..._ his question was answered when Konan bent closer to whisper to him, circling her thumbs on either side of his neck.

"Pein-kun, could you be in charge of the spring cleaning this year, pretty please? I'll give you back rubs every day..." All six of Pein's hearts fell. He knew it must be something _Über freaking bad_ for her to want him to be in charge of the spring cleaning, and hell if he was going to do it without suitable compensation for mental and physical trauma. The only thing that would ever make up for the mortification of this would be-

"...and I'll cook on Zetsu, Tobi, AND Itachi's shifts, how about it?" Yeah, that. Tobi always wanted cake, and Itachi only knew how to make one thing: Dango. Zetsu... he preferred not to think about the last time Zetsu had kitchen duty. _Too bad she isn't also offering me other things..._ he thought, imagining all the things his female-deprived mind wanted to do to the only female in the can blame him? This S-class criminal organization was famous for a lot of things, but alas, babes were not one.

"... and I'll be your servant for a day." That settled the deal. There wasn't anything that could be so bad that having Konan at his beck and call for a day wouldn't be worth. He raised one hand to his mouth, wiping the drool off his piercings, and held his pinky finger up. "Deal, Konan."

"Deal." She pinky swore with him, and chuckled evilly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Really Short Chapter**

***disclaims*  
**

Tobi had decided to go back to Deidara's room and comfort him. _After all,_ remarked Madara,_ Deidara will have to get used to you if he is to be of any use to me. _Walking across the living room like a cat, Sharingan activated to see in the dark, he caught a faint flare of chakra coming from the floor. _Hmm, one of Sasori's old heart containers._ He kicked it a little ways away, just in the path to the light switch in the kitchen. _Hah, watch that idiot Deidara trip over it in the dark and then fawn over the thing like it actually was Sasori. Too bad, blondy. I'm your partner now and you'll just have to deal with it_. Tobi gave an innocent little giggle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally, A Longer Chapter**

**My disclaimer was too lazy to show up.  
**

"Hidan! Get your zealot arse out of the shower! Don't you know it's winter, and the water company charges us based on how much water the hideout uses this month! Get out, you've been in there for half an hour, and the steam is making a sauna in this room and loosening my stitches! Can you hear me?!?!?! Hidan!!!!!" Kakuzu hated mornings. For one, he usually woke up to blood splattering on his face from Hidan's rituals. For two, He wouldn't even get a chance to wash it off, because his partner always had to take an effing shower right after the ritual, to avoid getting MORE blood on the carpet. Also, he really needed to pee.

"Hidaaaaannnn!!!!! Thirty five minutes!!!!!"

"F**K you!"

"Never in a million years douche bag!" _Wait, did I just say _douche bag? Kakuzu decided to go downstairs and see if he could get Zetsu to teach Hidan a lesson. Fumbling for the light switch at the bottom of the stairs, he decided to just go by night vision to the kitchen. Half way there, he tripped over something about the size of a cookie canister, but much heavier, and therefore more painful to stub ones toes on.

"**CENSORED CENSORED **in a **CENSORED **with a **CENSCORED** eating **REALLY, REALLY CENSORED****!!!**" He'd learned those ones from Hidan. Getting up, he limped to the light switch in the kitchen, and flipped it, illuminating the offending object, and also the reason why he had slipped. Observing the massive flood and fire damage to the hideout, he ran some quick calculations on the cost of fixing everything, and promptly fell face down into a puddle of water and melted ashes to have a fatal heart attack.

Hidan, hearing that his partner in crime had left their room, decided that he would take as long as he possibly could in the shower, even in addition to his already thirty five minutes. When the water went cold, he got out and toweled himself dry, slipping on a pair of sexy gray silk boxers (because nothing else is good enough for his ego) before putting on pants and his Akatsuki cloak and smearing approximately half a cup of gel on his hair to keep it out of his face.


	8. Chapter 8

**A More Compact Chapter**

**My disclaimer called in sick.  
**

When he could pretend no longer, Deidara lifted his weary body from the bed, trying not too look at the pile of puppet limbs still scattered and broken on the floor. The smells of freshly charred wood and Pledge were gone, replaced by a dank, smoky smell that seemed to be pressing in on him. He had never needed air freshener before, because of Sasori's constant spraying and shining himself with Pledge, but now he recalled that there was a bottle of it on the living room table downstairs. He scrabbled around for a flashlight, hating the dark as always, and crept down the stairs. At the sound of a loud thump and a strangled cry, he shrank back against the side of the stairwell. Could Zetsu be eating someone? He hoped not (they had gone through at least eight mailmen that month already), and snuck a few more steps down, morbid fascination getting the better of him. No, it wasn't Zetsu, it was Kakuzu, and all he did was trip. Hah, old man, Deidara thought. Then, he was brought back to reality by the flip of the kitchen light switch, and the revelation of the entire living room and kitchen area of the base, charred and flooded and dirty. Oh, and Kakuzu by the light switch, counting on his fingers and then going into convulsions and dropping like a stone into a puddle of water, clutching his chest. _Oh, kuso, kuso, they're gonna think I did it!_ Deidara ran for the light switch, intent on not leaving any more evidence than necessary, when he tripped over the exact same thing that Kakuzu had, and sprawled face first into the exact same puddle of water as Kakuzu was now sprawled in. Blue eyes widened as inverted green ones pulsed and contracted spasmodically with the taking over of one of Kakuzu's other hearts, only inches away. As the other ninja's chest bounced in the puddle with the shock of the first restarted heartbeats, Deidara panicked and scrabbled against the slippery floor to get away from Kakuzu, backpedaling and tripping yet again over the pesky cylinder that had tripped so many others. In a flash, as he fell backwards, Deidara caught a glimpse of the thing, and through a clean spot in the ash, saw the scorpion and heart carved on the side of it. He snatched it up, knowing what it might be, and fled up the stairs, soaking wet and slimy with ashes and water. He might have his old friend back, after all. After he changed his pants of course.


End file.
